


Second Kiss

by Eller



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/F, Romantic Cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 10:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eller/pseuds/Eller
Summary: A (haphazardly written) segment from the life of Liza as she lets her attraction to Fish Mooney get the better of her.





	Second Kiss

She thought what it might be like to calmly take her hand. The way Fish might turn to her for just a moment and say nothing, only look into her eyes for a second, then they’d walk in silence down the street. She felt a thrill in her heart to think of it, seeing them hand in hand and others seeing too, the world thinking they were in love. 

That was the first time she had fantasized about them both, and there were many times after that. It was at the beginning of the long days and weeks where Fish taught her about Carmine Falcone and Liza had to pretend she wasn’t thinking about her hands pressing against the small of her back, or moving hot against her thighs, or her breath panting softly on her neck. She was learning to be another version of herself, resembling the mother Falcone had loved. But it gave Liza a rare chance.

Fish needed to know her well, and so she got to tell her everything she could. All about herself, what she liked, what had happened to her, what she found fun and funny and interesting. She thought she could see Fish relax around her gradually, maybe even enjoy her company. She wanted that to be true. 

But she found it frustrating how little Fish offered up in return. The odd story, an occasional glimpse into her life but nothing substantial. Besides her warm and constant gaze it never felt much like they were getting closer, much less like it was a date. Though Liza tried to pretend it was.

“He won’t be able to resist you,” Fish had said. Her eyes had lingered a while. 

And Liza felt somewhere in there might be a strand of hope.

 

—————

 

The weeks passed and Liza felt the days move all too quickly. The time would soon come when her assignment would begin, and she felt panicked some nights, like there was a window out there somewhere which was closing, and beyond it was her future self reaching out across an empty bed and maybe an empty life altogether.

So she did something daring. She asked Miss Mooney to take her to the fairground. She was bored, she said again, with as much softness as she could, and if they were going to dye her hair later then no-one would recognise them being together. She tried not to beg. Falling into favor with Gotham’s most powerful Don meant learning to be at least vaguely dignified.

But Fish said yes. She had caught her in a charitable mood, apparently. Liza glanced at her from under her bangs and all at once she felt hot and flushed, though the distance between them seared like a pain in itself, one that was cold and quickly put out the fire under her skin.

Fish had dressed down, somehow, though Liza thought her idea of casual was the average person’s finest clothes. Her dress was dark grey and patterned like marble. Liza didn’t try to hide her blush when Fish asked her how she looked.

During the last few months she’d slowly questioned the bar staff at Mooney’s about Fish’s previous relationships. She was looking for a hint, anything that might help her figure out what Fish might look for in a girlfriend. But all she got was a trail of disappointment.

“All different types. Dark haired guys, light haired guys, some weren’t even all that good-looking.”

“Yeah. The ones we’ve seen, all been pretty different.”

Their description of her last attachment, the one named Lazlo, had been especially disheartening. Muscular, medium-light complexion, short hair. Liza was far from that, and she despaired to think about it.

That, and the fact they all tended to disappear. No one at the bar could recall an ex of Miss Mooney’s whose family and friends heard from them again once she was seen with someone new. It sounded like a cheap lie but it was one she heard every time she asked. Even still, she was not afraid.

Throughout the journey she wondered if she even had a chance. She looked down nervously at her own clothes, something she wouldn’t be able to wear again for some time. She would be working away from Fish, away from her own identity, and that frightened her more than any danger Fish posed to her life. 

They sat together in the back seat, Fish drinking from a glass of wine which Liza had come to expect despite the fact this was no limousine.

“I haven’t been to a fairground since I was a little girl,” Fish said after a long while, her smile looking genuine enough to provoke one in return from Liza, “My mother sometimes took me when we could afford it. Never felt like there was enough time to do and see everything.”

“That’s really sweet,” Liza replied. Her voice was quiet and thoughtful, though she already felt close to losing her composure, “We might not have time for everything but I’m sure we can try.” Her smile lingered on her face and she forced herself to suppress it. 

She hoped to god her own method of flirting wouldn’t seem false. She didn’t want her voice to sound like it did when they’d practice her talking to Falcone, trying to sound… however Fish thought he’d most like her to sound.

From the corner of her vision she could see Fish take another sip of wine and she resisted turning to look. She’d caught herself staring too many times when her lips had pressed against a glass, thinking back to their only kiss. When Liza had lied to her and regretted it, until a moment later when it seemed not to matter and she was sat on her table. She remembered the way Fish kissed back so calmly, like it meant nothing in the world. That last part wasn’t such a pleasant thought, and Liza snapped herself out of the memory. 

What did she mean to Fish Mooney? She was a tool, certainly. That much she had been told before. She used to remind herself of that to get over the crush that was growing every day. But she couldn’t stop herself from dreaming, and she sometimes did dream of Fish. Lying beside her, the weight of her body completely on hers, the warmth of her pressed between her legs. Her daydreams were much the same, and in the car she tried to stop them up, to focus on the blur of city and sky and highway outside her window. She prayed she might not have to dream forever.

When the car finally stopped Liza made her way round to open Fish’s door and offer her hand. She hoped it seemed cute as opposed to condescending, and though she’d done it a few times before she was still nervous. She hoped it didn’t show on her face. 

“Thank you, baby.” Fish said when she took her hand and stepped out, and that was all the confirmation Liza needed for now. The sea breeze blew her hair back and forth gently across her shoulders, and she thought about how cinematic they must look standing there together with the ambient music of the fairground floating around them. How foolish she knew the thought was, but it made her smile.

 

—————

 

They spent a long time in and around the boardwalk, the games and rides and food stalls. They found themselves in the ferris wheel, towering and stark white and covered in incandescent lights. A swell of feelings rose in Liza’s chest to look out at the waning daylight, thinking of the way Fish watched the scene below, her face thoughtful and calm, her fingertips idly tapping on the plastic bench. How she wanted to kiss her then. To tell her she didn’t care what people said; that she wasn’t afraid and never would be. 

It was getting late and urgency swelled in her again. They were out here, somewhere new and strange and if there was a chance Fish might accept something so bold it was going to be here. When they stepped back onto solid ground Liza’s mind was reeling. Fish was talking absently and they were walking so closely together, so close Liza knew it would only take a moment to reach out and hold her and kiss her.

To her own surprise she stopped then and Fish followed, questioning gaze turning in her direction. A calculated pause and then Liza was speaking words she hadn’t prepared, stumbling at first, her feelings and thoughts running out from her like smooth streams from a river and she was powerless to stop herself. She wanted to be with her so badly, and now she knew.

They were paused together in an aisle between vendors’ stalls. Fish wasn’t showing an ounce of surprise, saying nothing, listening with kind eyes. Kinder than Liza had ever hoped to see on her, for everyone she knew told her to be cautious, show respect, never speak up or out of turn to Fish Mooney. But Fish smiled in a reserved kind of way, like she knew, like maybe she’d known for a while, and there was nothing out of turn about this in the slightest. She looked almost proud.

 

“Is this really what you want?” Fish asked her.

 

“Yes.”

 

And she didn’t wait long before reaching up to stroke a hand against Liza’s hair, following its flow down behind her ear. Her expression was composed as ever. Gold-yellow spotlights reflected in the edges of her eyes and Liza was lost. She’d forgotten to breathe for a time and almost gasped. Everything felt dark around her and she shivered as Fish closed the space between them, pressing their parted lips together. Their second kiss. 

The drifting music seemed to slow in Liza’s ears, mixed with the dull rushing sound of blood and of her own heart thudding in time. She wanted to hold her face in both hands and press her hard to a canvas wall, but she knew she couldn’t.

Fish’s hands moved to Liza’s hips, pressingly lightly and holding her in place. And again all Liza wanted was to test her composure by leaning in too hard, pressing their bodies together all at once. She knew she would have to be patient but the thrill was too much. To think this might never have happened; how she might have had to imagine this over and over forever while sitting torturously in the mansion of that old man. Pouring tea and making small talk, all the while thinking of lilacs and how she wished their scent filled her head like they did now. 

“Fish—” she gasped breathlessly, hoping to sound eager as the kiss ended. She hardly knew what to say.

Something about the look in her eye or her desperation thankfully lowered Fish’s guard and she smiled widely, from what Liza hoped was affection along with the obvious amusement. Her gaze was usually intense and Liza was grateful for the reprieve, however foolish it made her feel.

“You know, you could have just asked back home if you could kiss me,” she said in feigned mocking, and Liza felt the blood reach the surface of her cheeks. 

“Thought this would be more romantic.” 

“Well, I suppose you’re right about that.” She smiled again, expression soft and warm and Liza wanted to stare forever. “But if you’re going to be my girl now, I expect you to take my hand.”

And so she did. They walked out from their alley and across the boardwalk to where driftwood steps led to the sand. Fish paused to remove her shoes, and Liza was surprised when she didn’t hand them to her to carry. 

In the sky the moon was rising ever higher above the ocean. They walked for some time, gaining distance from the rides and clubs and the people. Here there was only the water to make noise, and it crashed and broke against the sand. They stopped to watch it, Liza spreading her jacket on the ground for them to sit on.

“I want you to know Liza, this doesn’t change what we’ve planned. Your assignment still has to go ahead.”

“I know.” Her voice was nearly a whisper and she caught herself, too late, afraid to sound so affected by the topic. She truly wished they could talk of anything else. 

Fish watched her expression for a while searchingly before reaching out a hand to place under Liza’s chin, gently leading her closer. She could see Liza’s longing gaze and had to keep herself from laughing again.

“You don’t have to hold back so much, you know,” she said, thinking of the Liza who had kissed her first and who now seemed almost shy after spilling her feelings. Liza blinked, listening with the serious, concerned expression Fish so liked on her. 

“I might still be your boss but that doesn’t mean you should be afraid of me. Or afraid to show me how you feel.” 

For all that she trusted her, Liza knew Fish Mooney wanted everyone to be at least somewhat afraid of her. Whether that applied to her love life or not, she couldn’t be sure. But it was what she needed to hear, and she nodded in affirmation. 

Fish seemed to be waiting, and Liza took that as her cue to kiss her again. She was more passionate this time, pressing in closer, daring to place a hand on Fish’s waist as their tongues brushed together. Her perfume was still a constant presence, more delicious up close than it ever was before. She moaned quietly, and Fish moved to kiss her neck instead. Soft, full lips left open-mouthed kisses down her throat and back up beside her ear.

Growing warmer every second, Liza gasped, thinking of the contrast of dark wine lipstick against her skin. Her hesitation dropped away and she let herself stroke her hand down to rest on Fish’s thigh, though she got no reaction at all. She supposed this still wasn’t Fish’s idea of not holding back.

The waves were breaking a little harder then, Liza could hear the sound becoming louder but still she was unwilling to open her eyes, losing herself in the feeling of hot kisses being pressed against her collarbones now. Her eyes opened, though, when she felt her skin trapped between teeth, only for a moment, to see Fish gently laughing at the gasp she’d earned.

“Come on, baby,” she said, her voice deep and warm in tone, and she offered a hand to pull Liza up onto her feet. In a daze Liza complied, her hand squeezing a little too hard then, and the sand was wet and solid where she took a step back and the flowing remnants of waves crept up to seep around her shoes. 

She thought about the water there, ready to drag her out to sea and under the waves, and she knew what she was doing might be the death of her some day soon. The night had become nearly black. 

She smiled out to the ocean with a pounding in her chest. She might never be here again.

**Author's Note:**

> Fish's hair was unaffected by sea spray and sand by the power of fiction, because beaches are just too romantic to avoid.
> 
> I've been very sparse with characterization, plot... just about all the good things, so apologies to Fish, Liza, and any readers because this is my weakest fic so far, but I felt they deserved some more content so made myself post it!


End file.
